


Hey, Nobody's Perfect

by cleflink



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: At least he hasn't lost his sense of humour, Fluff, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Jensen's life just keeps getting weirder, Ridiculous, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombie!Jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleflink/pseuds/cleflink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was not what Jensen meant when he said he wanted a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey, Nobody's Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at [j2_crack](http://j2_crack.livejournal.com)'s 'Enchantment Gone Wrong' comment meme. Originally posted [here](http://j2-crack.livejournal.com/14789.html?thread=142021#t142021).

Jensen would have thought he'd be immune to shock by now. After all, he'd lived through the apocalypse.

And not just any apocalypse, mind. Jensen had lived through an honest to fucking God _zombie_ apocalypse. Seriously, zombies. He'd been there when the virus had first spread, had watched the news with horrified disbelief as it turned from an infection to a plague to a global crisis to the end of the fucking world. He'd been there when the definition of survival had changed to mean a loaded shotgun and the ability to outrun anything shambling after you. He'd there when the world had turned into a level of _Resident Evil_. And not a very good one at that. 

So yeah. After all the impossible bullshit Jensen had been through, he hadn't thought there was anything the world could throw at him that he couldn't take in stride. 

But this just couldn't be fucking happening.

"I gotta say," said the zombie that Jensen had his shotgun trained on, which made no sense because zombies _didn't fucking talk_. "It's nice to have an actual conversation for once. Zombies aren't exactly what you'd call talkative. Besides all the 'urrrr, brains' stuff. Which gets old really fast."

Jensen stared at the zombie. He'd been doing pretty much nothing but stare at it since it started talking at him instead of trying to eat his head. It was one of the fresher-looking zombies, which was to say that his skin wasn't rotting off his bones and both of his eyes were still in his head. It was impossible to mistake that gray pallor and awkward gait for anything else, though, nor the scent of death that hung all around it. 

"You're a zombie," Jensen said to the zombie, almost like he was clarifying that it was, in fact, a zombie.

"Yep," the zombie said candidly. "It pretty much sucks out loud. I'm Jared, by the way. Thanks for not shooting me."

"I still haven't decided not to," Jensen said, keeping the gun barrel fixed on that high forehead. "How are you talking?"

The zombie - Jared, apparently, shrugged. "No idea. Been like this since I got zombified. Which, yay I'm not a shambling, brain dead, animated corpse, awesome, but I can almost see how you'd want to be more dead than me for this. Brains are disgusting. Give me a chocolate bar any day."

"This is fucking weird," Jensen felt compelled to say. 

Jared threw back his head and made a sound that was almost a laugh but more like a dry, breathless death rattle. They both flinched at the sound and Jared's face fell so dramatically that the rest of his body sagged with it.

"God damn it," he said, in a quiet, defeated voice that made Jensen's heart go out to the guy no matter how much he didn't want it to. Jared's smile was a wan little thing. "Did I mention this zombie thing is bullshit?"

"Could be worse," was all Jensen could think to say. "If the zombie that infected you had started at the throat, you'd be whistling every word."

This time, Jared reined his laugh in to something that made it much easier to pretend he wasn't dead. "That would suck," he agreed. He hesitated and, in a voice that seemed strangely shy for someone who was a) the size of a small nation and b) a mother fucking zombie, added, "Especially when I've finally found someone to talk to."

Jensen nodded tightly, not trusting himself to respond to that.

"So what's your story?" Jared asked. "Magical talking zombie or no, I totally expected you to shoot me."

"I'm lonely," Jensen blurted before he'd even realized he intended to speak. A bitter grin twisted his lips. "Pathetic, isn't it? The whole fucking world's gone insane, I'm only going to last as long as much supply of bullets does - and that's if I don't starve to death first - and here I'm praying to any God that'll listen to give me some _friends_."

"I don't think that's pathetic at all," Jared said. He sounded kind of wistful and what the fuck was Jensen doing, commiserating with a zombie over how much their lives - or not-lives, in Jared's case - sucked?

Apparently there was more than one way for Jensen to lose his mind. "Jensen," Jensen said, and lowered his gun.

Jared blinked at him. "What?"

"My name. It's Jensen." Something clattered in the distance, which was never a good sign in an abandoned city. Jensen climbed to his feet and gave Jared a measuring look. "Time to go. You coming?"

It took a moment for Jared to process that and Jensen watched understanding sweep across that gaunt-cheeked face with aching hope right on its heels. "You mean it?"

Jensen swallowed hard, once. He was definitely insane. He nodded. "Yeah."

"Awesome!" Jared jumped with a beaming grin that made Jensen bitterly regret the fact that he was, well, dead. Because Jensen was not into necrophilia and Jared must have been fucking gorgeous when he was alive and half his scalp wasn't missing. "This is so great, Jensen, thank you, I promise you won't regret this, I can fight the zombies off, too, it's not like they can eat m-"

"Right now I'm regretting the fact that you no longer need to breathe between words," Jensen muttered, but he could feel himself smiling. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened. He shouldered his shotgun and leveled a warning finger at Jared. "But if you shed any body parts on me, all bets are off."

"Fair enough," Jared said, still grinning. He shambled up to Jensen's side and Jensen had to fight the instinctive urge to bash his face in and run for the hills. "So, where are you from?"

There were a hundred thousand ways this could go wrong, most of which involved Jensen being eaten alive, but Jensen couldn't quite bring himself to care. So his new friend was a zombie. Crazy was pretty much par for the course in Jensen's life these days. And it wasn't like Jensen had specified to the powers that be what kind of friend he wanted. Jared seemed like a good guy. Jensen's life could do with one of those.

And if Jared did turn on him, at least Jensen was going to get eaten by a _nice_ zombie. There were worse ways to go.

~fin


End file.
